Dark Winds
by RaichuTec
Summary: You'd think they'd get to live happily ever after, wouldn't you? But for some darker figures... the past always comes back to haunt.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger characters and such belong to Squaresoft. I'm just playing with them for a bit.

Author's Voice: I wrote this a long time ago, as in... four years ago. I just never thought to put it up here for some reason. Well, I'm remedying that, thanks to a recent re-interest kindled in this dear old game. So, I'm fixing that which needed fixing.

**Dark Winds**

  
  
The night had descended, bringing with her a chill that spoke of winter's coming, whistling through the town with the scent of coming frost. Still, Leene's Square shown brightly with festivities, bonfires flickering upward to lick the skies. It had already been a day of celebration, this marking three years after the destruction of Lavos, honoring the heroes who had crossed time itself to save the planet from utter destruction.   
  
The entire town eagerly attended this annual event, even young children who bounced on their fathers' knees or clung to their mothers' legs. All of them had gathered around the fire, invited to drink a toast to the heroes, and to their new prince, Crono. The excitement from the day had hardly begun to taper off, after all, every day they lived and breathed marked only another day of freedom from Lavos.   
  
Each of the heroes sat near the fire, their seats assigned and reserved by the palace guards. Lucca claimed the seat closest to the fire, occasionally feeding it with her own special abilities. Beside her lounged Glenn, the Masamune still sheathed at his side. The empty seat between him and Crono had been reserved for Janus, hauntingly empty, it reminded them all of the precarious alignment they kept with the former tyrant of the middle ages. Still, it bothered Crono enough that he kept looking over his shoulder, wondering if he would see the tall figure descending towards the fire, cloak billowing behind him.   
  
"Crono? Crooooooonoooooooooo?" Marle's voice cooed at him. When he didn't respond, she rapped against his head with her knuckles lightly to get his attention.   
  
Crono nearly jumped, startled to be dragged out of his thoughts so quickly. Blinking, he gave Marle a blank stare, "Huh, what?" This, of course, only drew a giggle out of her. He chuckled at himself and draped an arm around her shoulders lightly, "Sorry, my mind was elsewhere."   
  
"I could tell. What were you thinking about?" she asked, but before he could respond, she leaned forward to gaze at Janus' empty seat, "And I wonder where Janus is, I know he's not Mr. Sociality, but he's always at least shown up for the anniversaries."   
  
Crono nodded mutely, normally everyone arrived for the anniversary of Lavos' defeat, except for Ayla, who had chosen to remain in her time period.   
  
"Perhaps he's just late..." Lucca offered, followed by a noncommittal shrug of her shoulders, "Very late... for a person who's obsessively punctual... sure..."   
  
Marle shook her head, "It's not right, maybe we should look for him?"   
  
The party exchanged looks with each other, but it was Robo who responded, "We can't leave a celebration meant for us, that would be rude." Everyone's eyes flickered around at the large crowd, blissfully unaware of the missing Janus. He'd never been very good at playing a public figure, and there were some who couldn't let go of the role he played in the middle ages.   
  
"I'll look for him," Crono offered finally. "He stays at the Porre Inn usually, it's out of the way enough for him. I'll see if he's checked in, if so we can worry that he's not here, if not, he's chosen not to attend this year."   
  
Everyone nodded in agreement, save for Marle. A pout on her face already, the beginnings of protest in her eyes, she wasn't keen on the idea of Crono going alone. Grinning at her, he rose from his seat and kissed her forehead, "I'll be back, promise. There are no more scary monsters in the woods." She giggled at his mock drama, and to his relief, let it go. Marle was notoriously stubborn about things at times, just like her father.   
  
To his surprise, it was easy to escape the festivities, very few barred his way with questions or exclaims of adulation. He responded with a weary smile to anyone who recognized him, and felt the familiar relief of being alone as he strode out of the fairgrounds of Leene's Square, disappearing into the night.   
  
It felt good to walk the woods without the fear of falling into the pit trap of a monster. For the first time since the founding of Guardia, humans and mystics alike could travel the forests and ocean alike without danger. Everyone had grown so lax about it that new roadways were being paved, and a new ferry had been constructed to the Mystic's continent across the ocean. The implications were wonderful, promoting peace between two races that had warred for centuries, and new accesses to the smaller villages. Yet something wasn't right, it tickled the back of Crono's mind, like a itch that couldn't be scratched or a riddle whose answer was just out of reach.   
  
"You would do well to pay more attention to where you are going."   
  
Janus' voice was the only thing to indicate his presence as he stepped out in front of Crono, the shadows slinking off his frame as if they were a malleable, living cloak. Crono might have jumped at one point, snatching his sword from its scabbard in preparation for battle. However, he had begun to grow accustomed to the Magus' stealthy ways, forcing himself to give the man no more then his reactionary step back, hand on the hilt of his blade.   
  
"You're late." His words sounded more terse then he felt, but Janus' cold smile added the sentiment in the aftermath. He released the hilt of his sword reluctantly, in this man's presence the feelings of foreboding grew stronger.   
  
Janus waved his hand dismissively, tossing his cloak over one shoulder. "These things always meant more to the rest of you... then too myself." He shrugged, attempting to warm his smile just a little. "If it makes you feel any better, there are other things on my mind, more... pressing things."   
  
"And what might those be?" The tingling heightened, enough to drive him nearly mad, but somehow he knew that Janus' answer might relieve that sense of foreboding, if just a little.   
  
Janus didn't respond right away, folding his arms across his chest as he regarded Crono in stoney silence. "You feel it too, don't you." It was not a question, but rather a statement of fact. To Crono's uplifted eyebrow he added, "That sense of dread, that feeling of darkness ever ready to swallow you without you knowing when or where it might strike you down... a black wind blows, Crono. You seem to be the only one, other then myself, who can sense these things."   
  
Crono's frown deepened, "You speak in riddles, Janus. What exactly do you mean?"   
  
Again, Janus hesitated, turning away from Crono, his cloak rippling, twisting around his tall frame like a shroud. "There are things you do not know of me, Crono, evils I have committed while in my obsession with destroying Lavos. And I fear the small rifts I left in my wake have been left to fester in this time and grow strong..." He trailed off and shook his head, turning around again to face Crono. "Once I would have scoffed at asking any of you to accompany me. Surely I was powerful enough to tend to my own needs, I alone was strong, and you were weak. Destroying Lavos has taught me humility..." his smile took on a bemused touch, "...if nothing else. And so, I am asking you to join me in this."   
  
Crono tilted his head to the side, dubious of the Magus' offer, but curious all the same, "And what of the others? Why make this offer solely to me, Janus?"   
  
The man's face twisted slightly and he averted his eyes, not for any moment of embarrassment, but more to spare Crono the site of the scorn in his eyes, "You alone have made an attempt to understand me without changing me. I am what I am, and no one, not your princess wife, nor your frog skinned friend, can turn me. I aided you in the destruction of Lavos for my own revenge, it was not some heroic act of altruism." He looked up again and Crono saw the struggle in his eyes for a split second, his own humanity fighting against the inner demons that had made Janus a legend in his own time. Just a flicker, enough to convey the half truth within the Magus' explanation.   
  
Crono merely nodded. "Fair enough. But I'm not going into this blindly. You will tell me what this involves."   
  
Janus' lips quirked, bemusement replacing the dark struggle, masking it perfectly underneath a pretense of preternatural calm. "Come with me then, we must begin this journey now, and I will tell all."


	2. A Whisper of the Past

Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger characters and settings belong to Squaresoft.

Author's Voice: Yes, this is the Artist Formerly Known as Eponine. Good guess.

Part 2: A Whisper of the Past

Dawn approached swiftly, fingers of light rising from the horizon to stab at the darkness. Night gathered her shroud about her tightly to flee west, till the sanctity of time allowed her to reclaim the skies yet again. Janus' castle reflected the sun with awe inspiring beauty, golden and pink eddies sparkling off obsidian black architecture. It was small, in comparison with the castle he had maintained in the middle ages, barely the size of a keep, but Janus had no use for anything larger now. Then he housed an army of Mystics, now it was only he who called this place home.   
  
Crono leaned against the window frame, admiring the castle coloring until the sun finally lifted above the forest that surrounded the keep. Janus had chosen an excellent spot for privacy, the forest at the front of the keep, the mountains to the back. Difficult to invade, if anyone were to attempt such a feat in this age. Always thinking like a man of eternal war, that was Janus.   
  
The latch turned with a click and Crono twisted his neck to peer over his shoulder as Janus silently entered the room. He nearly asked if the man ever knocked first, but decided against it. Janus' powers were well known, he would never have walked in unless he were sure his guest was awake and coherent, as well as dressed.   
  
"You surprise me. I had thought it would be several hours before you awoke." There was a touch of humor to his words, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips. Crono was well known to sleep in as long as possible.   
  
Twisting around to lean against the window frame, Crono shrugged, "I found it hard to sleep last night. You promised to explain all of this today, and I would like to hear it."   
  
Janus' eyes glittered darkly, reluctance barely masked in his eyes. Crono watched as the Magus crossed the floor to the polished oak table near the fireplace, easing himself into a chair with all the grace of a loping cat. "So be it. Have a seat." He gestured to a chair across from him with a gloved hand, his arms then descending to the armrests. His bearing was regal, as though this common chair were transformed to a gilded throne simply by the power of his presence. Crono claimed the seat, arms crossing over the top of the table as he leaned in to listen as Janus began his tale.   
  
_The palace gates opened wide, Mystics marching back into the courtyard, chanting the name of their master and leader, The Magus, a man to be feared now, his crimes innumerable, his legacy a mystery. Janus watched from the highest spire of his castle, an arrogant smile upon his lips. These were his, and soon all that he could see would belong to him. The people of Guardia were weak, their King obsessed with creating a world free of fear, of evil. He would understand the error of his ways. Or he would be made to kneel before the Magus himself.   
  
The battle had gone well, the entire continent conquered, those humans who had not perished in the fighting had been enslaved for the use of his army. Let them know how fatal their decision to attack his castle had been. His entire goal was not in ruling their petty world, but in calling out Lavos to send the creature to its final doom. If the local villages had not sought to weed the Mystics out from the forests, he would never have indulged their fancies of destroying the human settlements.   
  
Long chain gangs filed into the palace, faces of pain and terror passing into the gates of the Magus. The Mystics brought servants for the palace with them. From his vantage point, he regarded them with the cool grace of a predator taking stock of his prey. Men, women, children, all ages and states of health. They would be put to work in the most menial tasks, and some would only become meat for the Mystics' celebratory dinner.   
  
He caught sight of her face out of pure luck. She happened to gaze upwards, perhaps to the sky originally, but instead her eyes fell on the man standing at the highest balcony and her breath caught in her throat. Leaning forward, the wind whipped at his hair, spiraling it above his head to mingle with the folds of his cloak, suddenly fascinated with this woman, so bold as to lift her face. His keen eyes, enhanced by magic, drank in her features like some kind of rich, heady wine. Dark haired, as many of the region were, her skin was pale as the moonlight, her eyes a sparkling green. Even in chains, she moved with a delicate step, perhaps a dancer before the war.   
  
An imp broke the moment, snapping the whip in her direction to strike her flawless skin and mar it with red streaks. She cried out in pain, a muted shriek, and her eyes snapped down immediately, shut tightly as she rubbed the growing red welts. Janus hissed, hardly realizing his sudden infatuation with this woman, hurling himself over the spire to drift down, using the wind currents to guide him safely to the ground.   
  
A cacophony of gasps from the Mystics and wary stares, as well as muttered curses, from the slaves greeted his arrival. Everything stopped immediately, even the drum's cadence halted, leaving a profound silence in the wake of his appearance. He coolly glanced over everyone present, his face an emotionless, pitiless mask, flicking his dark cape casually about his shoulders.   
  
He approached the woman with a purposeful stride, lifting her chin with his fingertips to gaze into her eyes. It was a struggle to maintain his outward control and dignity as he read the innocence, the utter fright in her eyes, and deeper still the stirring of darkness in her soul, the temptation of gazing at the Magus himself, to see him, no, to see beyond him, to understand the intricacies of this infamous man. She wished to know him, and struggled with the desire.   
  
"What is your name," he asked, his voice a near whisper.   
  
"Meoni," she replied, mimicking his hushed tone.   
  
"This one will be taken to my private chambers. The others, do as you wish." His edict made, he turned to enter his castle again, before his ears caught fire with the whispering of his army. He well knew the rumors that would begin, and was sure Ozzie and Flea would approach him later to "discuss" this little change in plans. It would be no use, this woman intrigued him, and if she ever ceased to, she would be tossed in with the servants, of that he was sure... even if the voice at the back of his mind tickled him with doubt.   
_

*************************

_  
"Magus, surely you don't intend to keep this... human girl with you." Ozzie seemed flabbergasted at the concept, his hands constantly moving with excited indignity. Flea sat to his left, arms crossed over her chest, her legs crossed one over the other with her elevated foot bouncing slightly at the ankle joint. She silently gazed at Janus as if waiting for Ozzie's tirade to finish before interjecting her own words.   
  
Janus leaned forward, each movement silently calculated. Body language kept his people in control as well as an open display of his powers, and he wanted both his henchmen to understand from the outset that his mind could not be changed.   
  
"If I might say, Magus, you seem infatuated with this girl. That's all fine and well, a pretty face might do you good, but bringing her into your throne room... allowing her to accompany you wherever you go... it makes a bad impression." Flea's patience finally wore thin, and she bluntly stated her case.   
  
"And what do you think I am, Flea, Ozzie?" he looked at each in turn, eyes burning with quiet determination. "Am I not myself human? Would you think it better if I took on a Mystic to keep at my side and share my bed?" Ozzie's cheeks turned blue, the common sign of blushing with chagrin. Flea regarded him dubiously, unconvinced and growing more irate by the intensity of her bouncing foot.   
  
"Lord Magus, you mistake our intentions--"   
  
Janus cut Flea off immediately with a swipe of his hand across his throat, "No, no excuses. Meoni stays with me, by my side." He leaned back and laughed suddenly, "I might even marry her."   
  
Flea jumped to her feet, lunging forward to face Janus as close as she could from across the table, "Lord Magus, you do not understand, that woman is a human and your army does not see you as human, whatever you truly may be." Angrily, she tugged at her braid, tossing it over her shoulder. "So long as you keep her at your side, the Mystics whisper that you're going soft, favoring and coddling a human."   
  
Janus glared at Flea in the silence thereafter, finally rising to his feet. He had feared this, feared it to the point that dread seeped into his chest, constricting his breathing even as he fought to maintain control. He had hoped the Mystics would see Meoni as nothing more then his slave, a plaything for the Magus, even as his infatuation for her turned to outright love. Not since Schala had someone accepted him so readily, loved him so freely without asking for it in return. And as he gave his heart to her, the masquerade grew more and more difficult to hold, and now it was apparent that it had unraveled altogether.   
  
"Very well," his heart sank into the pit of his stomach as he forced the words out of his mouth. "I will send her away from here."   
  
"No, Lord Magus... that's not enough, you must do more to win back the trust of your people. If you send her away, they will not be convinced." Flea smiled maliciously as she suggested, "Burn her at the stake... let everyone watch, and then they will know that the Lord Magus doesn't coddle humans."   
  
Janus' fists clenched, his sneer openly displayed on his features. Damn Flea for this, damn her. For even as every fiber of Janus' being screamed against this, he knew it was the only rational way to win back the faith of the Mystics. "Very well." he hissed, glaring at Flea until she meekly returned to her seat, fear evident in her eyes at the wrath she may have incurred. "She burns tomorrow." With a flutter of his cape, he stormed from the room, leaving Flea and Ozzie alone to fear the Magus' anger.   
  
He ran to his chambers, throwing open the doors without touching them, his skin glowing with the magic of his temper, uncontrolled now in his rage, and his grief. Meoni jumped from the vanity drawers, rising to her feet immediately at her lover's entrance. She gazed at him wordlessly, waiting for him to explain.   
  
"You must come with me now... there is little time to waste..." he nearly choked, holding back the storm of emotions from this fragile creature. For two months now she had shared his heart and his bed, and no race of damnable creatures was about to force his hand.   
  
She stared at him for a long moment and he waited for her to question him, to demand an explanation, or to weep at the intensity of his emotions. Instead, she merely nodded. "I knew this day would come... what do you intend to do, my love? Am I to be sacrificed to please you people?"   
  
Stunned, Janus nearly felt his jaw drop. How could she have possibly have guessed this outcome. Staring into her eyes, he could see nothing but utter and complete acceptance of his duties, and perfect love. All the things Schala had given him, and oddly it made him wonder, would his sister have done the same for him? Breaking himself from the shock, he forced his voice into steadiness before responding, "They want you burned at the stake, to prove my loyalty to them... to show that I am their leader still in mind and body. I will not sacrifice you, Meoni. Come with me now, I know what I must do."   
  
Wordlessly she followed him, down deep into the castle's catacombs, through narrow tunnels that dripped with condensation and ankle deep waters. To a room so secret, Janus shared it with no one, not even his lieutenants. Lifting his hand, fingers outstretched, a blue glow emerged, flashing toward a hidden lock and the door opened with a protest of heavily rusted hinges.   
  
The room beyond resembled nothing of the surroundings Janus had left it in, a purposeful deception, meant to keep anyone from becoming curious about this strange locked door. Clean swept tile floors stretched out before them, leaning to a small pedestal upholding a glowing rectangle of reddish light. A condensed room, where time was frozen, keeping its prisoner intact until freed. With a sweep of his hands and a few choice words chanted, it sprang to life, a doorway sliced into mid-air before them.   
  
"This is where you shall stay for now, no one will find you here, none know of this place but me." He drew her into his arms, his fingers trembling with the amount of power required to hold the door open. She smiled at him sadly, already accepting her fate without complaint. Such courage... he returned the smile to her, leaning forward for one last kiss.   
  
"It will not be long, I promise, I will come for you," he whispered into her ear, holding her close to take in her scent, feel the softness of her cheek against his. One last caress. Silently she stepped through the door, tentatively testing her footing. He watched her disappear into the red glow and began the careful closure, one mistake and he would crush her, losing her forever.   
  
When at last the pedestal again held his doorway, he crumbled to the base, denying the tears even as they streamed from his eyes. He'd only cried for one woman in his life, until now._

The Magus' tale finished with an unprecedented misting of his eyes. Crono had since leaned back in his chair as he listened silently, unwilling to interrupt. This was a rare moment, to witness the emotion on Janus' face, the struggle to retain his outward composure as he continued describing the past events. He had seen this only one other time, in person, the night Schala saved them from Lavos, never to be heard from again.   
  
"And so, that ends the beginning of my tale." The sadness was quickly replaced with the usual pitiless gaze his face maintained. "I'm sure you wonder what it has to do with the foreboding winds of today."   
  
Crono nodded. "Though I'm also curious to know how you managed to keep the Mystics in line, and if you ever returned to break her out again."   
  
Janus chuckled lightly, a bemused expression creating a dark humor in the angles of his face as he replied, "Magic is ever the wonderful thing. I turned a maid from the kitchens into her likeness and burned her. No one was ever aware of the switch. As for returning to reclaim her..." he rose from his seat slowly, stretching his gloves over his fingers. Crono looked toward the window to realize that the sun was in its zenith, noontime. They'd spent all morning at the table.   
  
"First, I must show you where the door is."

(To Be Continued...)


End file.
